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Blog Archive

Thu, 02.08.2018

AMERICAN SONNET (10)  by Wanda Coleman

our mothers wrung hell and hardtack from row and boll. fenced others’ gardens with bones of lovers. embarking from Africa in chains reluctant pilgrims stolen by Jehovah’s light planted here the bitter seed of blight and here eternal torches mark the shame of Moloch’s mansions built in slavery’s name. our hungered eyes do see/refuse the […]

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Thu, 24.09.2009

SONNET TO A NEGRO IN HARLEM by Helene Johnson

You are disdainful and magnificant–
Your perfect body and your pompous gait,
Your dark eyes flashing solemnly with hate,
Small wonder that you are incompetent
To imitate those whom you so despise–
Your sholders towering high above the throng,
Your head thrown back in rich, barbaric song,
Palm trees and mangoes stretched before your eyes.
Let others toil and sweat for labor’s sake
And wring from grasping hands their meed of gold.
Why urge ahead your supercilious feet?
Scorn will efface each footprint that you make.
I love your laughter arrogant and bold.
You are too splendid for

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Thu, 24.09.2009

SONNET TO NEGRO SOLDIERS by Joseph Seaman Cotter Jr.

They shall go down unto life’s Borderland,
Walk unafraid within that Living Hell,
Nor heed the driving rain of shot and shell
That round them falls; but with uplifted hand

Be one with mighty hosts, an armed band
Against man’s wrong to man-for such full well
They know. And from their trembling lips shall swell
A song of hope the world can understand

All this to them shall be a glorious sign,
A glimmer of that resurrection morn
When age-long faith, crowned with a grace benign,
Shall rise and from their brows cast down the thorn
Of prejudice.

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Thu, 24.09.2009

SONNET by Alfred A. Duckett.

Where are we to go when this is done?
Will we slip into old, accustomed ways,
finding remembered notches, one by one?
Thrashing a hapless way through quickening haze?
Who is to know us when the end has come?
Old friends and families, but could we be strange
to the sight and stricken dumb at visions of some pulsing memory?
Who will love us for what we used to be
who now are what we are, bitter or cold?
Who is to nurse us with swift subtlety
back to the warm and feeling human fold?
Where are we to go when this is through?
We are the war-born.

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Thu, 24.09.2009

SONNETS by Gwendolyn Bennett.

He came in silvern armour, trimmed with black-A lover come from legends long ago-With silver spurs and silken plumes a-blow,
And flashing sword caught fast and buckled back In a craven sheath of Tamarack.
He came with footsteps beautifully slow, And spoke in voice meticulously low.
He came and romance followed his track….

I did not ask his name-I thought him Love; I did not care to see his hidden face.
All life seemed born in my intaken breath; All thought seemed flown like some forgotten dove.

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Thu, 24.09.2009

SONNET by Alice Nelson Dunbar.

I had no thoughts of violets of late,
The wild, shy kind that spring beneath your feet
In wistful April days, when lovers mate
And wander through the fields in raptures sweet.

The thought of violets meant florist shops,
And bows and pins, and perfumed papers fine;
And garnish lights, and mincing little fops
And cabarets and songs, and deadening wine
So far from sweet real things my thoughts had strayed,
I had forgot wide fields, and clear brown streams;
The perfect loveliness that god has made,-
Wild violets shy and Heaven-mounting dreams.

And now-unwittingly, you’ve made me d

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New Poem Each Day

Poetry Corner

We will be no generashuns to cum for blks r killing r-selves did u hear bros. Did you hear the killings did u hear the sounds of the... UNTITLED (a commemoration of the blk/family) by Johari Amini.
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